


The Ship of Dreams

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, Vaguely CheKhan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"God himself could not sink this ship!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dinner with Leonard McCoy

Pavel Chekov was against all of this. The marriage, the ship going to America, all because his father had gambled away every last cent they had left. So here he was, in England, trying to speak with people through his heavy Russian accent while his supposed fiance smiled and pulled him along through the masses of people, with his mother following close behind. 

“It cannot be much bigger zen ze Mauritania.” He said, struggling to get the wording right. Khan had insisted that he learn the language so he could communicate when they reached America. 

“It is far too amazing to insult, darling.” He said, turning to the young Russian’s mother. “He is much too hard to impress. God himself could not sink this ship!” 

Khan leaves his servant with his precious possesions and they board the “unsinkable ship.” However, Chekov feels his heart sink to his stomach. This wasn’t right. He didn’t want to go to America. The lights were too bright. He wouldn’t be able to see the stars.  
\---  
“Those things are worthless.” Khan says, settling on the sofa while Chekov hangs the beautiful paintings from the walls. 

“Who painted them, Pavel?” A young maid asks. 

“Uhm, somezing Picasso.” He replied dismissively. “And I zink zey are wery nice.”  
\---  
Chekov runs. He runs faster than he can remember being taught was proper. The stars are clearer out here, and after he hits the railing and catches his breath, he looks up at them. They’re exquisite. His eyes move to the water moving beneath the luxurious ship. After a moment, he climbs over the edge, the expensive shoes on his feet making soft noises against the metal. He takes sharp breathes of cold air and lets his fingers uncurl from the railing. 

“Don’t jump.” A voice says quickly, and Chekov starts. He nearly slips, but catches himself just in time. The man behind him puts out a hand to steady him, but draws away. 

Chekov turns, eyes wide, and stares at the man. He has dark hair, and looks older. “S-Stay back.” He stutters, edging away. “Don’t come any closer. I vill jump.”

The man steps closer, but puts his hands up when the Russian leans farther out to the sea. “Leave.” Chekov orders. “Go avay.” 

“I can’t, darlin’. Now I’m involved. If you jump,” The strange man with the odd accent (like Chekov had a reason to think accents strange) sheds his jacket. “I’m gonna have to go in after you.” 

“Zat is crazy,” Chekov says, shaking his head. The blonde curls bounce. “Ze fall by itself vould kill you.” 

“It would definitely hurt. I’m a bit more worried about the temperature.” 

The Russian searches his English vocabulary for the word, but fails to find a match. 

“Vhat does it matter?” He asks, shaking his head. 

“Well, it’s freezing, like a thousand knives going through you at once.” He says, taking off his shoes. 

Chekov swallows thickly. “How cold do you zink it is?” He asks softly. 

The mysterious man shrugs as he pulls off his last shoe. “Probably just below freezing. Ever been to Wisconsin?” 

The boy shakes his head. “Well, my father took me there one winter, and I fell through some thin ice. The water was so cold, I couldn’t think of anything but the pain. That’s why I’m not going to be very pleased when I have to jump in after you.

Chekov hesitates, “I’m kinda hopin’ that you’ll climb back over the rail, darlin’, save me the trouble.” 

The young Russian boy stares at him, before biting his lip and nodding. 

“Give me your hand.” The dark haired stranger said, holding out his hand for the blonde, who takes it. “Leonard McCoy.” He introduced. 

“Pawel. Pawel Chekow.” He said. He moves to clamber over the railings, but his foot slips and he is sent falling to the freezing water. 

Except he isn’t. There’s McCoy, holding his wrists with both his hands. Pavel screams, his eyes filled with fear as he stares up at this man, whom he met only moments ago, who now held this beautiful boy’s life in his hands. 

He finally manages to pull the boy up, his arms wrapping around the boy as he falls to the boarded ground of the deck, his hands shaking along with the rest of him. 

“It’s alright, I got you,” Leonard says soothingly, looking down at this terrified boy. “It’s alright.” He repeats. 

His screaming had attracted Khan however, and when he arrives with a few crew members, McCoy understands how it looks bad. His hands are braced on either side of Chekov’s head, and his white dress shirt is untucked, revealing part of his pale torso. The crew members haul Leonard up by the scruff of his neck and tie his hands behind his back, only watching as Khan helps up his fiance, taking off his coat and wrapping it around the Russian’s shoulders, before rounding on Leonard, his eyes shining with fury. 

“You no-good, third class pig, I’ll-” He starts, but is interrupted by Pavel, who tugs on his sleeve like a child trying to get someone’s attention.

“Khan, stop, it vas just an accident!” He says, when the raven-haired man turns to him. “I vas leaning ower ze railings to look at ze, uhm . . .” He lied, trying to remember the English word. 

“Propellors?” Khan fills in, rolling his eyes when Chekov nods quickly. 

“Right, ze propellors, vhen I slipped! Vhy, if it veren’t for Mr. McCoy, I vould be dead. “ He said, nodding brightly. One of the men turn towards Leonard. 

“Is this true?” He asks Leonard, in turn, glances to Pavel, who gives him a pleading look. 

“Yeah, right.” He answered quickly. Khan nods after a moment and wraps his arms around Pavel, more like he's property than a lover. 

“Well, then, you are a hero.” A crew member says. Chekov nudges Khan after a moment, before he nods. 

“Well, in that case, you must join us for dinner tomorrow night,” He says, the suggestion clearly forced. 

“I suppose I must accept.” He said, smiling a bit as Khan made a face half pure hated and half possession to his Russian. Khan takes Chekov hand and leads him back to his room, but not before Chekov can smile lightly and wave just a bit at him. 

Leonard, meanwhile, walks towards the remaining man. “Can I have a smoke?” He asks, nodding in appreciation when the man oblogises. 

“It is strange, isn’t it?” The man asks, his tone monotonous as he smoked. 

“What is?” McCoy asks, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“That Mr. Chekov fell so suddenly, and you still had time to remove your jacket and shoes.”  
\---  
Chekov sat in his room, making an attempt to brush out his curly blonde hair (somewhat disheveled, thanks to the evening’s events), but looks up when Khan enters the room. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been acting rather melancholy lately.” He says quietly. 

“Melancholy . . .” Chekov repeated softly, scanning his mental English dictionary.  
“Sad, upset,” Khan listed, revealing a dark box. When he opens it it, he reveals a silver wristwatch with a large blue diamond on the face. 

Chekov watches in amazement as Khan fastens the thing around his wrist. “Oh, Khan.” He breathes, gazing at the watch in astonishment. 

“They call it the Heart of The Ocean.” He says, finishing with the watch and taking both of Pavel’s hands in his own. “Pavel you are royalty. and I would not deny you anything if you would stop denying me.” 

The young boy blushes and looked away at the mirror rather than at Khan himself. He doesn’t reply.  
\---  
“So, why were you trying to kill yourself, Mr. Chekov?” Leonard asks, catching up with Chekov alone on-deck. He’s still wearing what he had on the previous meeting, and carrying a leather sketchbook. 

“Eet is everyzing. Ze people, and I am so helpless about it.” Chekov pauses, before showing McCoy his left hand to display his engagement ring. 

“Ze whole state vill be at my vedding, but I feel like I am so lost and nobody ewen notices!” 

“Do you love him?” Leonard interrupts. 

“Vhat?” He asks, looking offended. 

“Do you love your fiancee?” He presses. 

“Zat’s a wery rude question, isn’t it?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s not rude, I just want to know!” McCoy replies, watching as Chekov rounds on him, having to look up at the taller man. 

The young Russian puts out his hand, and McCoy shakes it, watching as chekov curses in fluent Russian. “Vell, yes. Zank you for sawing me, and I hope to newer see you again.” 

“You forgot about dinner tonight.” Leonard retorts, smiling as Pavel storms off. 

Moments later, the young Russian is back. “Zis is my part ze ship, you leave!” He says, pointing in the opposite direction. 

Leonard laughs at the boy’s pathetic attempt to look tough. “Now who’s being rude?” He asks teasingly.  
The boy opens his mouth, but has run out of retorts. Pavel swears inwardly in Russian, before snatching the sketchbook from his hands. He pages through the drawings, his eyebrows shooting upwards. 

“Zese are good,” He said, moving to sit on a deck lounge. He looks down at the drawing of the an old woman and can’t help but smile lightly. 

“That woman used to sit at this bar every day in Paris. She would come in every piece of jewelry she owned. Just waiting for her long lost love. 

“I beliewe you have a gift, Mr. McCoy. You see people.

“I see you,” He says, watching the boy thumb through his drawings. He looks up, a small blush etched over his face. 

“And vhat do you see?” He asks carefully.

“I see that you wouldn’t have jumped.”  
\---  
“How do you move around so much?” Chekov asks, as they walk along the promenade deck. 

“I guess I’ve never had anything tying me down to one place.” He doesn’t mention his failed marriage. Or his daughter. He left that behind in his youth. 

Chekov nodded, smiling. “I vish I could live zat way.” 

“You can. We could drink beer and ride horses.” 

“And look at ze stars.” Pavel says. 

“You can look at the stars whenever you want.” He laughs. 

“Not in ze daytime.” The young man argues. 

“Sure you can, if you look hard enough. I’ll show you.” He said, leaning his back over the railing to look at the sky. 

Chekov stares for a moment, before leaning over the edge to look up at the sky. 

“There’s one.” He started, pointing at the sun, and Chekov smiles. 

“Pavel, what on Earth are you doing?” Ruth asks, her eyebrows knitting together at the mere sigh of her son doing something so improper. Both Leonard and Chekov jump up, taking a step away from the railing. 

Chekov clears his throat, looking from his mother to to McCoy. “Mother, zis is Leonard McCoy. He saved me vhen I slipped last night,” He said, feeling terribly awkward. 

The dinner trumpet sounds, and a thankful Chekov pulls his mother towards her room, but not before she can shoot a disgusted glare Leonard’s way. 

A woman with caramel skin raises her eyebrows. “Hey, you.” She called. Leonard turned, walking towards the woman. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” She asks. “What are you planning on wearing to dinner?” 

Leonard shrugged, gesturing to his normal clothes. The mysterious woman rolls her eyes. “Figures,” She mutters. “I’m Nyota Uhura. Come with me.” She said, pulling him back to her room.  
\---  
Chekov walks down the grand staircase, a smile finding its way to his lips as Leonard offers his arm. 

Chekov leads McCoy to his mother and Khan, who looks surprised. “Why, you could almost pass for a gentleman!” He says, shaking his head in amusement as they walk to the dining room. 

Nyota appears, smiling brightly at the two. “Care to escort a lady to dinner?”  
\---  
“That’s all I need. Air to breathe, a few blank sheets of paper. I like waking up in the morning, not knowing what’ll happen, or who I’m gonna meet." He says, taking another sip of his champagne and giving a pointed look at Chekov, who smiles to himself and looks down.  
\---  
“Leonard, would you care to join us for a drink in the smoking room?” Somebody asks. 

“No, thank you.” McCoy declines. 

“It wouldn’t interest you. Politics, business.” Khan says, shaking his head. “I should be going.” Leonard says, standing up and moving to shake hands with Chekov, before leaving. 

Chekov can feel the paper in his hands as he watches him depart. 

“Want to see a real party, darlin’?” He asks, taking the Russian’s hand and leading him down. It’s time this kid saw a third-class party.  
\---  
Chekov smiles, watching as Leonard dances with a little girl that reminds him so much of his little girl, his Johanna that he’ll never see again. But he doesn’t think of that now, he thinks of the Russian that can never be his. 

Leonard pulls Chekov up for the next dance, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around his waist, helping the boy into the steps. They dance merrily, not noticing the man watching on the stairs.


	2. A Night Out

Chekov and Khan eat in relative silence, until Khan sets down his fork. “I know what you were doing below decks last night."

Chekov sets down his own fork, gathering his courage. “You hawe had Spock spying on me again.” He said. It wasn’t a question. Pavel knew. 

“Apparently, it is a necessary pre-caution.” He says simply, taking a his of his tea. 

“You need to stop ordering me around.” He said, once again bearing all his courage. “I’m your fiance.” 

Khan watches the young man-only a boy, really, his face contorted with rage. 

The table flies across the room, the sound of breaking glass and teacups making Pavel cringe, his eyes wide as he rounded on him, placing his hands on either side of Pavel's armrest. “Yes, you are my fiancee.” He snaps, his face too close to Pavel’s. “And you will respect me. Understand?” 

Chekov nods after a moment, his body taking over before his mind did. Khan storms out, and the Russian falls out of his stupor to help the maid clean up. His hands shake as he tries to pick up the broken glass.  
\---  
“You’re not to see him again,” His mother says stiffly, adjusting his bow tie again. His mother, though from Russian just like him, saved no trace of it in her voice. Her English is impeccable. It was almost like she never had a life before America. 

“We’re broke, Pavel.” She says. “And marrying Khan will keep us afloat. Does that mean nothing to you?” 

Pavel doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust himself enough.  
\---  
Pavel manages to slip away, finally, and finds himself watching Leonard at the very bow of the ship. His strange, mysterious, clever man. He turns to face the Russian and smiles. “Give me your hand, darlin’.” He says, holding out his own hand. After a moment, Chekov smiles bright enough to make the stars look dim and follows Leonard’s movements. “Now, close your eyes.” 

He does so, and soon Chekov feels himself lifted up, his feet planted on the railing. “Do you trust me?” McCoy asks, pressing himself into the boy's back to keep him from falling. 

“I do.” He says, still smiling. He feels Leonard lift his arms. 

“Then open your eyes.” 

When he does, he takes a sharp breath at the beautiful sight all around him. He laughs giddily. “It is like,” He starts, recalling the world. “Like flying.” 

He turns in the embrace, lowering his arms before he was completely certain about what was happening before Leonard had trapped his lips against his, the Russian’s arms wrapping around his neck and his eyes falling shut.  
\---  
Chekov smiles, the first real smile he’d given anyone in a long while, and unlocks the safe and shows him the watch. “I could never actually vear it. But I vas vondering . . .” The boy goes red and runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Newermind.” 

“What, Pavel?” He asks gently, carding his own fingers through that blonde hair. 

“I vas thinking you could draw me vearing it. Only it.” He says, his pale face growing even redder as Leonard nods. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” He says, standing up and walking towards the sitting room to rearrange the furniture.  
\---  
“So, just sit right there, and, put your arm up, like that.” Leonard stuttered, trying not to be too distracted by the boy’s exquisite features as he drew, glancing up every few moments to take him in.  
\---  
When he is finished, Chekov is again dressed and walks back into the sitting room. The drawing sits on the table as Chekov scribbles down a note and puts it, the drawing, and the watch in the safe and locks it. Chekov smiles and slips a dime into Leonard’s pants pocket. “I almost forgot,” He says softly, just before the door opens. Chekov looks around for a moment, before taking the other man’s hand and pulling him through another door, leading out into the hall. But Spock had followed. Leonard runs, pulling Pavel along behind him into a room, leading him down further into the boiler room. A scottish voice yells as they run past (“Oi! You can’t be down here!”), but they simply continue on, Chekov laughing brightly. 

Leonard slows down when they reach a cargo hold, helping the young Russian into a car and getting into the front. “Where to, Mr. Chekov?” He asks teasingly. 

“Ze stars,” The boy says, and pulls Leonard into the car and shutting the door, locking his lips in another passionate kiss.  
The windows are misty now, made so by the two men’s heavy breathing. Pavel had shed his pristine dress shirt, now crumpled on the floor of the car as Leonard’s hands roam around the boy’s pale chest as they kissed.  
\---  
Chekov follows Leonard out to the fresh night air, and the boy turns to him. His shirt is untucked, and his hair is mussed. “When ze ship docks, in New York, I vill go wiz you.” He promises, feeling McCoy’s strong arms wrap around him. 

“That’s crazy,” He tells the Russian, but smiles and kisses his forehead anyways. 

Chekov's head snaps up when he hears the noise, the terrible scraping noise and sees the iceberg as they pass it.  
\---  
Chekov is surprised by how easily McCoy agrees to go to Khan and his mother but they do, Leonard shouldering past Spock on his way in. 

“Something serious is going on.” Chekov says, taking in a sharp breath as Khan pries the two apart and pulls Pavel to his chest. “Spock, search him.” He said, ignoring the Russian entirely. 

Spock rifles through Leonard’s pockets, pulling the Heart of the Ocean from them. 

“No. . . zat is impossible. Ve vere togezer ze whole time.” Pavel says, shaking his head. 

“Perhaps he was stealing it while you were putting your clothes back on,” Khan suggests grudgingly, eyeing Pavel’s untucked and wrinkled shirt.

“Damn it, Pavel, don’t believe it! I didn’t-” His voice trails off as Spock takes him away, leaving Khan and Chekov alone. Khan takes one look at him and slaps him across the face. Pavel winces, and is still holding his face, his eyes filled with unshed tears, when a crew member comes and tells them to put their life belts on.


	3. The End

“I do hope the lifeboats are being seated according to class, and that it’s not too crowded.” Ruth says. Khan smiles, and Chekov mutters something under his breath. “What was that, Pavel?” 

“I said shut up.” He says, his courage spiking once more. “Half of these people are going to die, and all you can think about is yourself!” 

“Not the better half.” Khan says, smirking. “I should have kept your friends drawing. It will be worth much more in the morning.” He says. “Now, get on the boat.” 

“No,” Pavel says, shaking his head. “Goodbye, mother.” He says, ignoring her screams. 

Khan pulls him back by the arms. “Pavel,” He said, his fingers digging into his skin. 

“I would razer be wiz Leonard at a time like zis zen vith you.” He said. He turns to march off, but Khan grabs his waist, making the boy wince and slap him across the face, much like he had done to him not moments ago.  
\---  
“Leonard!” Pavel says, running into the room as quickly as he could, covered in freezing water from the waist down as he looks up at the man. 

“Pavel!” 

“I am so sorry I let zem take you.” He blathered, shaking his head.

“It’s okay, Pavel, just help me find a key.” He said, watching, handcuffed to a pipe as the young man rifles through drawers.

“Zere is none!” He says frantically. “I’ll be back, I vill find somezing to help.” Chekov dashes out of the room, leaving Leonard to sit in the waist-high water. 

“I’ll just wait here, then.” He says.  
\---  
Chekov returns moments later, with an axe in his hands. He lifts it up, but McCoy's eyes widen and he shakes his head. 

“Okay, why don’t you do like, a few practice swings?” He asks desperately.  
\---  
They finally manage to get on-deck, thanks to a bolted bench and some friends, and they finally find a lifeboat. And coincidentally, Khan. 

“Pavel, get on the boat.” Leonard says, nudging him towards the remaining places on the lifeboats. 

“No, I am not leaving without you!” He protests.

“Look at you, darling, you look terrible,” He said, pulling off the coat McCoy gave her and drawing his own massive coat over the Russian’s shoulders. 

“Darlin’, you need to get on that boat.” 

“You vill die.” Chekov said, tears filling his eyes.

“No, Pavel. He’ll be okay. I have made a deal with a crew member on the other side of the ship. Both of us will live.” Khan says, watching him. 

Hesitantly, Pavel climbs onto the lifeboat. As it lowers, Chekov stares up at Leonard. 

He can’t leave. He never would have. 

He climbs back onto the ship, running to meet McCoy as tears flowed down his face and arms wrapped around him. “Damn it, Pavel! Why did you do that?” He repeated the question desperately, kissing the other carefully. 

“You jump, I jump.” He replies, looking at the man through his tears. 

Suddenly, a gunshot is heard. Chekov and Leaonard look up, their eyes widening before Pavel can pull McCoy down the stairs, running off. 

They finally make it to the dining room, and then into a flooding hallway. A man runs towards the door, and Chekov yells to stop him, but he is too late. The door bursts, sweeping away the man as Pavel and Leonard run, or rather, swim, to an exit. They find one, but it’s locked. A crew member starts to unlock the door, but drops his keys and flees up the stairs. 

“No! Come back!” Pavel calls, swearing in fluent Russian until Leoard dives under, feeling around for the keys. The whole place is underwater now, and Pavel takes a last breath of air before Leonard manages to unlock the door and push it open and run up the stairs, taking Pavel’s hand. 

They make it outside, and go up, the ship tilting and taking quite a few people with it. Leonard clings to the railing with Pavel, before he laughs somewhat hysterically. “What is it?” Leonard asks, over the sound of screaming people and water rushing. 

“This vas vhere ve met!” He said through his laughter, letting McCoy kiss his forehead. They finally go down with the ship, the suction of the ship pulling them apart as Chekov kicks his way to the surface, silently thanking his father for teaching him to swim, and looks around. “Leonard!” He yells, but is pushed under by another frantic person, using the Russian to keep afloat. Leonard pulls the man off of him, helping Chekov catch his breath. 

He looked at his blue eyes and nodded. “Swim.” He ordered, pulling him along. 

“Leonard,” Chekov whimpered. “Ze water...it is so c-cold.” He stuttered, struggling along as McCoy finally stops at a door. 

“Get on.” Chekov obeys, putting out his hand to help McCoy, but he shakes his head. “We won’t fit.” 

Leonard looks at Chekov, whose lips have nearly turned blue. He takes his hands, gripping them tightly. “It’ll be okay, Pavel. The boats, they’ll be back. They’ll save us.” He said, nodding.  
\---  
Chekov shivers, not looking away from the man in the water, who looks just as bad as he does. “Leonard?” He asks, his voice hopeless. 

“Hey, shh. The boats’ll be back. They’re just getting organized, darlin’.” He says quietly, gripping Pavel’s hands and stroking the even paler skin.

“I love you.” Pavel chokes out, tears falling down his face. They offer no warmth. He’s certain they’re freezing halfway down his face. “It doesn’t matter if ze boats come. I’ll stay wiz you.” 

“No, no, Pavel, don’t say your goodbyes.” He said, shaking his head. “You’re gonna live. You’re gonna get out of here, and go do things. Beautiful, wonderful things, just like you, and you’re going to die an old man. Not like this.” He said, shaking his head. 

“I feel like I am dying.” Chekov says, shaking his head. 

“That poker game was the best thing that ever happened to me,” McCoy says, looking up at the Russian. “It led me to you. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” 

“Promise me, Pavel. Promise me that you’ll grow up and stay alive no matter how hopeless things look.” 

Chekov nods. “I promise.” He whispers. 

“Never let go.” 

It’s quiet now, everybody else is either frozen or just about so. Chekov shivers, and watches as Leonard shivers, too.  
\---  
Chekov has moved to his back, his hand still in Leonard’s as he gazes up at the stars. The stars, that he always wanted to go to but never could, the stars that Leonard showed him and made brighter just by being there. 

Suddenly, he hears something. Somebody yelling. He turns his head, just a few inches, as much as he can, and sees it. He turns onto his stomach, shaking Leonard’s by his hands. 

“Leonard, vake up, a boat has come.” He says, but Leonard doesn’t open his eyes. 

No. No. No, this isn’t how Leonard was supposed to die. They were supposed to die together, old, after years of adventures and travelling and memories. 

“Leonard,” Chekov begged, shaking his head. “Leonard, vake up. Please,” 

“Is anybody out there?” A man yells. 

Chekov doesn’t look away from him, very tempted to sit there and die with Leonard. But he made a promise, and he has to keep it. For Leonard. 

“I’ll newer let go,” He sobs, kissing his hand as he reluctantly lets the man's body sink to the sand. “Newer let go.” He repeats, rolling off the door and stiffly finding the dead officer, blowing the whistle as much as he could. 

It was the last he ever saw of Leonard McCoy.


End file.
